


I'm too Hot...(Hot Damn)

by Arukou



Series: Tumblr Archive [11]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Sorry Not Sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 04:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5275913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve's temperature is shooting up, and frankly it's sad how much like a drowned puppy he looks. Tony has a few ideas on how to solve that problem.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm too Hot...(Hot Damn)

**Author's Note:**

> For all you Fahrenheit users out there, average human body temperature is 37 degrees Celsius and a very dangerous, potentially deadly fever would be anything above 40 degrees Celsius. Also, you all know how this came about. You [know](http://36.media.tumblr.com/a0a6c0b48a167bd1efa547dc2d75bd98/tumblr_noeicxaArt1u8qw4co1_500.png). Originally posted [here](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/post/121011925431/im-too-hothot-damn).

Tony first notices in Dubai, sweeping through a desert stash of Hydra weaponry. The last of the bad guys is down, a gag in his mouth to keep him from popping his little poison pill, and Steve is standing off to the side, red-faced and dripping.

“JARVIS, what kind of sensors have we got in Cap’s suit?”

“GPS, basic life signs monitoring, and communications, sir.”

“Can you give me a read on his temperature?”

“I only have skin sampling, which is admittedly rudimentary, but I estimate his core body temperature is currently 41.7 degrees Celsius, sir.”

“Holy shit! And that’s not tipping off the life-endangerment warning because…”

“Captain Rogers average body temperature is 38.8 degrees Celsius, and I have documented him running at up to 43.3 degrees Celsius in the heat of battle without showing signs of fatigue, fever, or heat stroke.”

“But look at him. He looks…he looks like a drowned puppy. I didn’t know a human could produce that much sweat.”

And sure enough, Steve is dripping, his hair alternately standing in wet spikes or plastered against his forehead. He has his Captain face on as he talks with Hill over the long-distance coms, calling in evac to the base. Natasha pats him once on the back and then draws away, and Tony is positive he isn’t imagining it when she rubs her palm against her hip. Good God, Steve is so wet he’s sweating through his…super durable leather, micro-kevlar, and canvas armor. Not to mention all the padding and layers beneath for his com systems and vitals trackers and…No wonder the poor guy is roasting. Tony frowns, brain already whirring.

“May I remind you, sir, that Captain Rogers is not technically completely human anymore.”

“Yeah, yeah, smart mouth. Pull up the specs on Steve’s armor. We can do something about this.“

* * *

The next time it’s really noticeable, they’re in Cote d’Ivoire, taking down pirate ships off the coast. It’s dead noon, sun high overhead and not a cloud in the sky, and Steve looks like he took a swim, even though none of them went overboard. He’s watching as Clint throws the last of the bad guys into the row boats, the bare-armed archer certainly more comfortable than Steve must be right now.

Tony’s caught up on the Captain America design. His initial thought had been mini, personal air-conditioning system. Something not dissimilar to what he uses in the suit. But the weight is problematic. His cooling system depends on him being airborne, constantly moving wind across the coolant tank instead of electrically refrigerating it. But for Steve, that’s not an option. 

He’s looked at water coolant systems like they use in mascot costumes, but he doesn’t think that’s going to stand up to Steve’s demands. Nothing worse than being in the middle of a fight and having your water break. Not to mention another eight to sixteen pounds of gear is only going to exacerbate the problem. Steve can take the weight, sure, but his body still has to expend the energy for it, which is just gonna make the ice melt faster.

So now Tony’s trying to think outside the box.

“Hey, Cap,” he says, coming in for a landing. “Feeling the heat?”

Steve is frowning and squinting, and sunglasses. That is another thing Tony should be thinking about. Irish eyes were not made for this kind of brightness. “‘S not so bad,” Steve says, but then he shakes his head and Tony can see the sweat actually flying off his hair. He’s personally glad there’s a metal suit between him and their favorite, soaking-wet golden retriever.

“Whatever you say, Sparky.”

Across the way, Natasha, whose suit is also really not made for warm climates, is leaning back in the shade of the boat. As Tony watches, she drops her zipper to her navel and shrugs out of the sleeves, revealing a sensible sports bra beneath. She leans back with a sigh and inspiration hits Tony like a ton of bricks. He’s got so many ideas spinning around in his head he actually jumps a little.

“You okay, Tony?” Steve asks, frowning and squinting even more deeply.

“Peachy. Just had an ‘aha!’ moment.”

“‘Bout what?”

“You’ll see.”

* * *

Tony stays up in a designing binge, working aeration and ventilation flaps into the safest places he can, running computer simulations on air-flow and undetectable fastening mechanisms. By morning he thinks he’s got it. The holy grail. The king of Captain America suits. Or rather, President. This is a democracy, after all.

* * *

“How’s the new design feel, Cap?”

Steve grins up through the tinted lenses covering the eye holes of his helmet. “This is great, Tony. I don’t…I mean, I’m still sweating, but it’s not like before. I feel…Thank you.”

Tony shoots down another robot, watching as it putters out on the concrete. They’re nearly done really, and the sub-par technology is making him want to weep.

“No problem, Cap.”

Thor gives the last bot a satisfying crack with the hammer, and it crumples like cheap tinfoil. Tony feels an instant shot of satisfaction.

“God job everybody. Load up,” Steve says, and they all march back onto the quinjet. In the safety of the bay, away from prying eyes, Steve undoes the hidden catches of the chest and back armor and shrugs out of it, revealing the mesh under suit.

“Oh my god,” he says, dropping the armor and stretching his shoulders out. “That is so much better.”

Tony looks on, admiring his work, taking note of places that seem to pinch and fold incorrectly. He can work on it later.

“Tony,” Natasha says, sidling up to him. 

He’s already removed the helmet, so he leans down into her, grinning. “Yes?”

“Thanks for redesigning Steve’s suit. It was really thoughtful of you.”

“Well,” says Tony watching as Cap’s abs flex beneath the mesh. “Admittedly parts of the design may have been entirely selfish on my part.”

“Oh please. It’s one of the most generous things you’ve ever done. I mean…look at him.”

Tony raises an eyebrow and glances sidelong at her. “I thought you and he weren’t…”

“Oh, we’re not. Doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the show.”

**Author's Note:**

> For more fanfiction and nerdery, you can find me on [tumblr](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/).


End file.
